


Responsibility

by GypsyReaper



Series: Officer on Deck! [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Chaos Ensues, Drama, Fluff, Gen, Grunt gets a kitten, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyReaper/pseuds/GypsyReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a slight ME2 AU. Shepard decides Grunt need to learn some responsibility, and so gives him a common Earth pet. Who will win the ensuing battle of wills? Grunt or the kitten?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Responsibility

I  
Commander Shepard strode into her cabin with a tattered cardboard box tucked under one arm, humming to herself cheerfully, a playful smile on her lips. 

Garrus put down the data pad he had been reading to greet her, springing lithely up from the couch. 

“Shepard! Glad to see you made it back in one piece,” the Turian said, unable to hide the obvious relief in his voice. She was supposed to have been meeting with the asari Aria T’Loak on Omega—apparently she had some information that Shepard would have found useful in her fight against the Collectors.

The commander was clearing things away to put the box on her desk. It was the only time she hadn’t had Garrus with her on a mission since he had been aboard the Normandy. 

He had tried to argue with her, but her reasoning was sound. He needed to stay on the Normandy, in case anyone recognized him as Archangel and tried to finish what the Blue Suns gunship had started. Shepard had taken Mordin and Legion instead, promising this was a quick trip and she wouldn’t be out too long. 

Garrus had suffered from a bad case of nerves, constantly sitting down, getting up and pacing around the cabin, even trying to go to the main battery and calibrate something, but his head was not in the right place to be writing firing algorithms. Eventually, he returned to the cabin and tried to read something until she returned. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Shepard could handle herself—she was Shepard after all. However, he was her second in command (no matter what Lawson thought). He was always there to make sure they both returned alive; after so many missions together, it was just disorienting to be on the ship and not by her side. 

“Of course. Mordin and Legion are excellent at watching my six,” she said matter-of-factly. She put the box down, being careful not to jostle it too much. 

As he walked up behind her, he smacked her ass playfully. “And what a beautiful six it is,” he said. 

Laughing, Shepard turned and kissed him on his scarred cheek. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Vakarian.” 

He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her into a tight hug. “I beg to differ, Shepard. It’s gotten me in all kinds of interesting places before….” He breathed in the scent of fiery red hair and sighed. “I’m just relieved to see you’re ok. I very clearly remember there were mercs taking shots at you, too, last time we were here.” 

Before she could remind him that she had been taking care of herself long before Garrus had been around, the box on the desk actually shuddered as something moved inside. 

“What have you got there?” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him as he peered over her shoulder. Shepard grinned at him before she pecked him on the scarred cheek. 

“A present,” was all she said, but there was a mischievous glint in her bright blue eyes. 

“Oh really?” he purred into her ear. “For little ol’ me?” he asked gently pushed his forehead against her own. The commander smiled, but shook her head when they broke apart. “Sorry, Vakarian. Not this one.” 

The Turian tried to look as disappointed as possible, but she ignored him, turning back to the box on her desk. He sighed dejectedly, but curiosity got the best of him and he leaned forward over her shoulder.

Opening the box, she leaned back so he could see inside. At first, he thought it was empty, a prank pulled by his C.O., but a small noise made him look again, seeing a little ball of gray fur tucked into a corner. 

“What’s that? Another space hamster?”

“Hardly! This is much more adorable,” Shepard said, reaching inside to pick the little thing up. 

It stretched out four little legs with large paws and claws, and a large triangular head with two pointed ears. Two large blue eyes blinked at him, a tiny nose quivered as it smelled him. 

Shepard used one hand to scratch it between the ears, which it seemed to like.

He was intrigued until it actually started to fucking purr. Then he was completely astounded. 

“That’s the weirdest Turian I’ve ever seen,” he said, chuckling. Leaning down until he was eye level with it, he tried to see if he could actually understand it. However, something spooked the little creature for it turned to him, flattened its ears and hissed, lashing out with a tiny paw. Luckily he was too far for it to reach, but he still jumped. 

Shepard laughed, petting it gently to calm it. “It’s a common Earth pet, a kitten! I always wanted one, but being on ships all the time made that impossible.” She nuzzled the little furball in a way that almost made Garrus jealous.

“So, since you’re now the captain of your own ship, you decided to get one finally?” He looked at the kitten, which was now all normal again, and hoped Shepard didn’t plan on keeping it. He didn’t want the little creature to try and scratch his eyes out as he slept. 

Meooooooow!

Garrus was slightly taken aback by how loud a noise the little creature could make. 

“Awwww…..” she cooed, giggling to herself. Garrus had seen Jane Shepard do many things- kill a Reaper, kill Saren, save the galaxy-but cooing and cuddling a little Earth feline was not one of them. 

“I’m not sure I can handle the trauma of what I just witnessed,” he said. 

Shepard rolled her eyes, and but the creature back in his box, sighing. “Like I said, it’s not for me…” she said disappointingly. 

“Then whose it for?”

“Grunt.”

The Turian’s jaw dropped slightly. “Wha----Grunt? Spirits, why?!”

“It’ll be a good exercise in responsibility. Teach him how to handle things with that he can’t use brute strength on. He’ll be fine.”

“Grunt or the kitten?”

Shepard waved away his worries. “I know what I’m doing.” 

“Riiiiggght. Grunt’s not one to take attitude lightly and that little thing had plenty to go around. What if he tries to blow it out of an airlock?”

“I’ll blow him out the airlock.”

Garrus simply looked at her. 

“What? I’m sure once this little guy grows up big and strong he’ll give the Collectors a run for their money.” She carefully folded down the corners of the box, preventing the little creature from escaping. 

“I think that little creature is actually a Reaper and it’s controlling you through indoctrination,” Garrus said, shaking his head at Shepard’s antics. He wrapped his arms around her and nipped her neck playfully, licking the nipped areas afterwards. Shepard sighed contentedly, rolling her head to the side to allow him more access to her sensitive neck. 

“You don’t know cats. They don’t need indoctrination to get their owners to treat them like royalty.” 

“Really? Maybe it can teach me a thing or two about getting you to treat me like royalty.”

Shepard turned and smirked at him, crossing her arms akimbo. “You aren’t sleeping alone in the Main Battery anymore. What more do you want?”

“I dunno. A new rifle? With a new scope attachment would be really nice. Oh, and maybe some half-way decent dextro-amino food. You know, something actually edible would be nice once in a while.”

“Hey! Gardner tries his best, it’s not his fault you can’t eat the good food.”

“A human trying to cook dextro-animo food is a disaster in the making, Shepard. How many fires have we had to put out now?”

“….too many,” she admitted with a sigh. She tried to change to a less embarrassing subject. “Now then, I’m going to go give Grunt his new present. Wanna tag along?”

“No thanks,” Garrus said, heading back towards the couch. As much as his mischievous side wanted to witness the chaos that might ensue, he really didn’t want Grunt to think that he had had any part in the idea. “It’ll give the two of you the chance to bond.” 

“Right. Because me going to Tuchanka and killing a thresher maw for his Rite of Passage isn’t enough of a bonding experience.” 

“Just remember, Shepard. When it hits the fan, this was your idea all along. You and you alone.” 

She grabbed the box off the desk, a grin on her face. “I took down Saren and a Reaper! I’ve killed a Thresher Maw on foot, and even took out hundreds of husks and geth! How much trouble can a kitten and a Krogan give me?”

After the doors closed behind her retreating figure, Garrus slowly shook his head, and chuckled to himself. “And those, ladies and gentlemen, were Commander Jane Shepard’s famous last words.”

II

Upon entering the cargo hold, Shepard found Grunt pacing back and forth in front of his tank, like a trapped animal. She tightened her grip on the cardboard box a bit as she watched him, obviously irritated with something. 

This was another reason for his “present.” Grunt was a giant ball of pent-up, genetically engineered Krogan fury. He lived for the violence and excitement that came with Shepard’s usual ground missions and it was during these times he was in his element. In between missions, however, he didn’t have anything to distract him from the boredom of the ship. 

Shepard really did not want to have to hear another rant from Engineers Gabby and Connolly, or Jack (God forbid). The three of them had approached her (at the same time--the Cerberus couple and Jack had decided to set aside their differences in pursuit of a common problem) to explain that Grunt had invented a new game to entertain himself: he had taken to getting a running head start and head-butting the walls of his quarters as hard as possible. The dents almost punched through the steel hull in several places. 

He explained that he had been practicing for the battlefield. 

And so, Shepard decided getting a pet might help calm the Krogan down, or at least give him something to concentrate on. Raising a kitten should be less damaging to the poor  
Normandy. At least she hoped so….

He paused his pacing and looked at her. “Shepard,” he greeted. 

“Grunt,” she nodded, moving straight to the table and putting the box down. He narrowed his eyes at her, and at it, and sniffed once. “What’s in the box?” he asked. “It smells awful.” 

“I found it on Omega,” was all she gave for an explanation as she opened the flaps. 

Reaching inside, she started stroking the little kitten’s head as it stood on its back legs and stretched up towards the top of the box. 

Grunt didn’t move forward so he couldn’t see what Shepard was playing with but it peaked his interest-and his suspicion. What the hell is she up too? He wondered. 

The kitten began purring and bumping its’ nose against the tip of her finger. Shepard suddenly started to wonder if this had been one of her better ideas. Well, too late to worry now, she thought. 

“I have a job for you, Grunt,” she said, with not a hint of mirth in her voice or body language. She was now Commander Shepard, BAMF, Savior of the Citadel, and Grunt’s Battlemaster. 

He stood a little straighter at her tone. “What is it?”

It was then she pulled out the wiggling and mewling grey kitten and held it up for him to see it at eye level. 

Grunt’s eyes darted from Shepard, to the kitten, then back to Shepard. His eyes narrowed and his voice deepened in anger. “What’s this? A joke?”

“Not a joke,” she said, and then explained. “It’s a creature from Earth, very respected and feared by many humans. It’s called a kitten since it’s still a baby, but when it grows up it will be  
a cat. Don’t let its size or appearances fool you—cats are nimble, intelligent, and dangerous. Their teeth and claws are like razorblades, and they are avid hunters.”

Grunt looked at her, still thoroughly unimpressed. “So?”

The kitten struggled in Shepard’s hand, so she put it back in the box. “So, I think it could be useful in our fight against the Collectors. And I want you to raise it.” 

It wasn’t really a lie…if the kitten could give Grunt some distractions, he would stop tearing up the ship, which would be very useful in this fight. Keeping Grunt calm and in control was her biggest problem at the moment—he needed something to concentrate on. Grunt wasn’t stupid (he was quite smart, in fact) he was just aggressive. If she could get him to concentrate on the little creature (by telling him it was important and could be useful in the fight) he would be happy knowing he was helping her. At least, that was the idea. 

Grunt’s big blue eyes blinked once, before he let loose with a loud laugh right in her face. 

“You can’t be serious, Shepard! It’s so…small. Defenseless. Useless.” He made sure to emphasize the adjectives. He crossed his arms over her front. 

“It’s still just a baby. You were a baby yourself not too long ago, remember?”

He puffed up his chest with pride. “And I’m a recognized Krogan adult now. Besides, even our newborns can pick their teeth with Turian leg spurs.” This last statement he said matter-of-factly. Shepard decided to ignore it for the moment. 

“That’s why I want you to handle this. Raised by a Krogan, it will be a fierce addition to our team, to the crew in general. It can be a powerful ally for us.” 

He scoffed in obvious disbelief. He made a gesture to her. “You’re the Battlemaster, Shepard. It’s your job to handle new recruits.” 

Shepard closed her eyes for a moment, taking a second to gather her thoughts. 

Ok, I was expecting a bit of resistance from him. Hell, I’d be worried if he wasn’t acting like a general ass. But I really did not want to have to pull rank on him over a kitten. 

“I’m too busy getting everything ready to hit the Collectors. So, I’m trusting you and no one else with this responsibility, Grunt.” She leaned towards him and whispered. “Don’t make me pull rank on your for this.”

His brow furrowed at her veiled threat, partially in anger and indignation. Shepard was usually as nice as nice could be, but sometimes she would surprise you with a quick moment of hostility, just to keep her crew on their toes. Grunt appreciated these moments of aggression, but the novelty was lost when it was aimed at him. 

There was a moment of tense silence between the two warriors. It was obvious Grunt was getting pissed at her insistence, and this had Shepard worried. 

_A quick mental movie played in her head of him charging her, they getting into a fight before she had to shoot him to stop him from killing her._

_When everyone asked what happened, she’d have to say “Yeah, he got pissed and charged me so I had to kill him…over a kitten. I know we are going up against the Collectors and need all hands on deck but you know….he was defying orders.”_

_To which Mordin would nod and say “Understand completely.”_

It was such a humiliating idea that she almost chuckled at such absurdity. Here’s to hoping Tuchanka ironed out some of his…violence problems.

After a moment, Grunt blinked at her, and his shoulders slumped slightly and he nodded. “You are my Battlemaster, and we are krantt. You helped kill a thresher maw in my Rite. It’s only fair I do the same for you.” 

_I wouldn’t exactly compare raising a kitten to killing a thresher maw but I’ll take what I can get._

III

Shepard had been walking past the apartments (she still thought of the area as the quarantine zone, even though the plague was long gone) when she saw a woman standing near a wall, going up to passerby, both human and alien, trying to give them a box. Everyone would look into the box, give her a look of disgust or annoyance, and walk off. Shepard watched this for several minutes before deciding to see what the woman was trying to give away. 

Shepard was being closely followed by Legion. Mordin had left her side for a few moments to check on the clinic and his former assistant who was running it now. Legion stuck to 

Shepard like glue, always silently following her every move. At first it had bothered her how quiet he was, but now it was normal. 

Does he follow me like that because he’s worried he’ll lose me? she wondered. Legion had tracked her all over the galaxy to find her—it would make sense that, now he was part of her squad, he would do everything to make sure she didn’t die on him now. 

Luckily, not too many people reacted to the Geth—they just thought it was her personal synthetic assistant, so Shepard and Legion were mostly unbothered on the hostile world. 

As Shepard walked up to her, the woman looked at the Commander with a sparkle of hope. “Miss, can you help me please?”

“What’s the problem?” Shepard asked. She may have been dressed in the Cerberus civilian clothes, but her manner was still that of a soldier. 

The woman held out the box, and Shepard peeked inside to see the gray ball of fluff, staring up at her with two huge blue eyes. Those intense blue eyes, the gray face…Oh, my God; it’s Garrus in kitten form! 

Shepard let loose a delighted gasp and reached in to pet the little creature. Legion’s lens moved slightly, focusing on the creature inside. The woman looked at him nervously, but the fact that Shepard was so taken with the kitten made her forget the Geth. 

“Oh, it’s so cute!” the commander said with a giant grin spreading across her face. The woman sighed in relief. “Thank goodness you’ve come along when you did!” 

“What are you doing with such an adorable with guy?” Shepard asked, scratching the kitten’s chin, making it purr. 

“He was my daughter’s, but my Salarian bastard of a landlord is forcing me to get rid of him. ‘Unclean,’ he called it.”

“How do you know that the Salarian’s parents had not completed the proper mating ritual necessary to designate an offspring as a ‘bastard’?” Legion asked curiously. 

The woman stared at him, mouth agape, unsure what to say. 

Shepard looked at him. “That’s not quite what she meant. She meant he was being a bastard. It’s a term used for people who aren’t acting in a polite manner.” 

Legion nodded once. “Explanation acknowledged.” 

The woman looked back and forth between them, looking apprehensive. Shepard shook her head. “Don’t worry, ma’am. He’s completely harmless.” 

“Uh, right. Um, anyways, I just didn’t have the heart to let security take him and maybe kill him. I’ve been trying to give him a good home, but no one cares about a kitten. Not in this city, anyway…” The poor woman looked like she was holding back tears. 

Shepard’s heart was moved by her tale. It didn’t help that Shepard had a soft spot for animals, for cats especially. Despite her hands and fingers covered in calluses from handing different types of weapons on a regular, day to day basis, she could still feel the warm, fluffy, trembling body of the kitten. Even the kitten’s heartbeat seemed to sync with her for just a few moments. 

“I’d love to take him…” Shepard said, trailing off sadly. The lady looked at her as though heartbroken. “But, why not?” she asked. 

_Because I’m Commander Shepard, and I spend all my time shooting robot-zombies or mercenaries, while commanding a ship that’s headed for a suicide mission to stop the Reaper threat by defeating the Collectors. Oh, and those ships have a tendency to get blown up, with me still on them._

She didn’t say what she thought, instead petting the kitten a few more times before pulling her hand out. The little creature stood on its hind legs and stretched upwards, as though trying to follow her. Shepard chuckled. It’s like he’s already decided to join my crew, she thought. 

Part of her didn’t think the Normandy needed a new member, but….at least if you die on the Normandy, you died fighting the good fight. You wouldn’t die at the hands of some security officer with a sadistic streak who got to you first. 

Sometimes, it was best to just jump in. So Shepard looked at the woman and smiled. “I think I’ve got the perfect home for him.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you! I will be right back with his stuff,” the woman said happily, heading back to her apartment, kitten in tow. 

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion ventured when she was gone. “There is adequate cubic volume in several different areas of the Normandy, including the cargo holds, personal crew  
quarters, and the A.I. Core.” 

“The A.I. Core?” Shepard said, slightly surprised at his suggestion. 

Legion looked down as though slightly embarrassed. “This platform does not require much space. We would be willing to share, if Shepard-Commander wishes to do so.” 

Shepard smiled. “Thank you, Legion, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I have an idea, actually. Think Grunt will appreciate him?”

Legion looked at her, his lens focusing on her in a questioning way. “Why Grunt-Krogan?”

“He needs something to concentrate on. I think a pet might be the trick.”

“Does this have anything to do with the krogan’s new recreational activity of head-butting the hold’s walls?”

~*~

The woman had returned to apartment and given Shepard everything she had that was kitten-related: a bag of food, a scratching pad, and a litter box. (This one had a laser built into the sides of the box that immediately vaporized the cat’s waste, leaving no smell or mess, while not harming the cat at all). 

Shepard was very happy when the woman revealed that the kitten, thought young, was already proficient at using the litter box. That was a step she really did not want to have to make Grunt go through—he might have actually tried to kill her at that idea. 

For the next half an hour, Shepard gave Grunt the basic Caring For Kittens 101 lecture, showing him how much food and water to feed it, how to program the litter box. She also explained that cats in general had to sharpen their claws constantly, so the little scrap of carpet was for that. 

For the most part, he accepted her orders without much fuss, of which she was glad. 

Finally, it was time for Grunt to officially meet his new charge. She reached into the box gently and cupped the kitten with both hands like a teacup. It squirmed a little bit, but she held it firmly enough so that it would not escape and fall to the floor, possibly hurting itself. 

“Hold out our finger so it can smell you,” she ordered. Grunt complied, but he rolled his eyes as he did so, stretching his hand towards the baby. Shepard had forgotten the utter size difference in the Krogan and the kitten. He could have easily closed his entire fist around the kitten! 

Watching the giant hand with giant eyes, the kitten squirmed to get away, but Shepard kept her firm grip. When the hand stopped a few inches away, the kitten seemed to relax. Now that the giant hand wasn’t going to hurt him, he became curious immediately and started leaning forward to sniff Grunt’s hand. 

It paused to make a little growly noise, but didn’t stop moving towards the Krogan, until its tiny pink noise touched the tip of his finger. 

Without warning, it nipped the tip of his finger. 

Grunt’s raised a brow in surprise. “It actually tried to bite me?” he asked, obviously impressed by the kitten’s nerve. 

Shepard grinned at his expression. “Cats can be moody, and they will fight anyone or anything, no matter how much bigger it is, when they are not in a good mood.”

The kitten nipped him a couple more times, then tried to get its tiny mouth around the fingertip in order to gnaw on it, but the finger was too wide and the skin was too tough. His little fangs were not even making a scratch on Grunt’s skin, but it was obvious he was getting a kick out of the kitten trying to hurt him, if his chuckling was any indication.

Only a Krogan would get a kick out of a kitten trying its damnedest to gnaw his fingertip off. 

“Are you sure it doesn’t have a quad under all that fluff, Shepard?”

Eventually, the kitten got bored and starting licking him instead. 

“Huh, feels like sand,” he observed.

“Cats don’t like water, so in order to keep themselves clean they use their tongue to lick away any dirt or grim.”

Now the kitten was butting his head and mewling. “Why’s it doing that?” he asked, plainly curious. She could see that he was trying to stay disconnected, but kittens had a talent for turning big tough guys into softies. “It wants you to pet it. You can scratch it between the ears, or stroke it down his back, but be careful not to grab or pull on his tail.” 

“I still can’t see how you think this thing will handle Collectors, Shepard,” Grunt growled. “If they ever boarded the ship I doubt their invasion force would stop to scratch a baby furball.” 

His finger traced the kitten’s spine gently, who seemed to thoroughly appreciate the attention it was getting, no longer scared of the giant Krogan. 

“You haven’t seen him mad, yet,” she said. “They can be downright demonic when pissed.” 

She pulled the kitten away from Grunt and gently placed it on the floor between them. It stumbled slightly, losing his grip on the slick metal, before starting to explore its’ new home in a tentative, stiff-legged, spread-eagled stance. It passed between Grunt’s feet, and he lifted one to better see where the little creature was going. The sudden movement spooked the  
kitten and it took off as an amazing speed, racing for cover under a table. 

“Shepard, it’s getting away!” Grunt said, unsure what to do and unable to hide the panicked tone. 

“I have closed all the vents so it won’t be able to leave Grunt’s quarters, Shepard,” EDI said immediately over the com system. She must have been monitoring the situation the whole time. 

“Everyone, calm down!” the Commander said, making a “slow down” gesture with her hands. “He’s just a little nervous in his new home. He’ll come back out when he’s hungry,” she explained. “Just give him a chance to explore and he’ll get less skittish as time goes on. Thanks for the assist, though, EDI.”

“Of course, Shepard. 

Grunt looked at his commander and nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. “Can’t fight on an empty stomach.” 

Shepard clapped him on his armor-clad shoulder without thinking, knocking the feeling right out of her hand. Without grimacing, she subtly shook her hand to get the feeling back while talking to him. “I trust you can handle things from here?”

“No problem, Shepard.” 

“Good. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or EDI. ‘Til later, then.” 

Just before the door closed behind her, Shepard heard Grunt muttering to himself “It’s too puny for head-on attacks, but it’s quick and fast. Maybe I can train it to be a recon scout…?”

Shepard grinned as the door closed. “EDI, make sure Grunt takes care of him, ok? And if anything goes wrong report to me immediately.” 

“Yes, Shepard.” 

Grinning, Shepard walked back to the elevator and pressed the button for her cabin. After the door closed, she wiggled her waist a little and readjusted her breasts so they sat comfortably in the new black teddy she was wearing under the Cerberus outfit. 

She hadn’t exactly lied earlier; she had only said that _particular_ kitten wasn’t for Garrus…

IV

Joker turned on the video feed of the various cameras aboard the Normandy in order to see what the crew was up to. He enjoyed using his disease as an excuse to spy (“I can’t exactly walk around and make friends like you can, Commander”). 

There was the usual feeds of Thane in his room meditating, Samara in her room floating and meditating, Jack in the hold staring into space (her own version of meditating)…

“Good God, we’ve got alien specialists on a Cerberus ship and it’s still boring as hell!” he grumbled. 

The Normandy pilot’s raised an eyebrow in surprise when the feed of the cargo hold appeared to display Grunt crawling around on his hands and knees, looking under crates and boxes in search of something. 

“What the hell? Did he loose a contact lens or something? That would explain his weird blue eyes…” He snickered at the mental image of Grunt popping the lens in every morning.  
EDI popped up beside him. “Shepard gave Grunt the responsibility of caring for a juvenile earth feline. He’s currently searching for its whereabouts.” 

It took a few seconds for Joker to understand what she meant. “Wait wait wait…Shepard gave Grunt a kitten? Why?!”

“I cannot answer that, Mr. Moreau. There is no logic in this action for me to observe and expand upon.” 

“No kidding! What if he tries to eat it or something?”

“Grunt has expressed the desire to train the kitten in the art of reconnaissance scouting.” 

Joker rolled his eyes as he held his forehead with his hands. “Jesus, because that’s what we need right now: Commando-Kitty, trained by a Krogan Elitist to save the galaxy from sentient robot-gods! It’ll be the blockbuster of the summer!” 

~*~

He had thoroughly examined every nook and cranny in the cargo hold, but after a solid half an hour of searching, the kitten was still MIA. Grunt had already been irritated at Shepard’s insistence on such a menial task, and now he had lost the stupid creature!

Opening and closing his fists, he tried to quell the urge the throw a properly-sized Krogan tantrum, complete with snarls, foot-stomping, and fist-pounding. 

“Proper Krogans don’t act out such foolishness,” he chastised himself. Not only would it be highly embarrassing to act like that, it might scare the kitten into hiding forever, starving to death because it was too terrified to come out and eat after such a display of Krogan temper. He really didn’t want to explain that to his Battlemaster. 

EDI’s blue orb of a body appeared on the console he was standing next to. “Grunt,” she said. “Did you try checking under the exhaust port in the back of your tank?”

He glanced at her. “What makes you think it’s hiding there?” 

“My sensors detect a small heat signature in that vicinity. It had been stationary for several minutes.” 

Now he turned his full Krogan glare to her, but its effects were lost on the A.I. “You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” he snapped. 

“It seemed logical to search there. It’s a small, dark, warm, enclosed space—it offers protection and comfort.” 

The Krogan nodded in agreement. The irony that the kitten found his tank safe and comforting was not lost on him. 

“He made the right choice,” Grunt said in approval. Taking a few steps forward, EDI stopped him shortly. “What are you doing, Grunt?”

“Gonna go fish him out. We need to start his training.” The “duh” was unspoken but there nonetheless.

“I would not recommend that particular course of action.” 

Grunt’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And why not?”

EDI actually paused before answering, as though not sure she really wanted to answer that question. “The kitten is not in the correct physical or mental state to undergo training exercises at this time. The sights and smells of the Normandy, these quarters, and yourself will be too distracting. I suggest delaying such exercises until the kitten is settled in and comfortable in its surroundings.” 

“And how long will that take?”

“I do not have the necessary information to make an accurate prediction.” 

He snapped at her. “What the hell am I supposed to do, then?!”

EDI didn’t answer him, and when he looked at the console she had disappeared. Even the A.I. knew went it was time to execute her “self-preservation programming.” 

He started pacing in front of his tank, caught in an internal debate.

On the one hand, the A.I. probably knew more about kitten well-being than he ever would, so he probably needed to take her advice. After all, he didn’t even know that sort of creature even existed until an hour ago. 

But, if this creature could actually help in the ongoing battle with Collectors, Shepard would need it soon, and quickly. Even though Shepard seemed to have a bleeding heart for every being in the galaxy, and whenever someone so much as stubbed their toe she was there to help, she was also catching up to the Collectors’ trail. They may have been kidnapping colonists at a fervent speed, but she was hunting them with the fury of a hell-bent Valkyrie. Any day could be the day they set a course for the Omega-4 relay for the end all Suicide  
Mission; Grunt wanted to give his Battlemaster every advantage he could in this fight.

He had no time to waste. 

He made his decision. 

Starting towards the tank, he walked as light-footed as a Krogan could. Weighing almost a ton in his armor, his careful steps felt like far-off thunder, rather than the determined earthquake that usually preceded him. If he could get to the kitten and not scare it into another hidden nook, he would be on the right path. 

The exhaust port was large enough for him to put his hand into. Getting down onto all fours, Grunt peered into the black cubby-hole, and saw the glint of eyes looking back at him. 

A low growl emitted from the hole. 

Grunt sighed, and reached inside to grab the cat and drag it out (albeit gently, he didn’t want to hurt it).

Sharp claws and teeth swatted at his fingertips, and a couple actually broke the skin. He wiggled them a little more and felt the tail between his fingers. He almost got ahold of it, but the  
kitten moved away too quick. 

He had pulled his hand out in order to get a better angle, when a flying ball of angry kitten came flying out of the exhaust port straight at the surprised Krogan’s face. 

~*~

Jack gritted her teeth in anger. That fuckin’ lizard is at it again! she thought, starting to get really pissed off. 

Grunt may have been on the other side of the side of the ship, but she could hear his thunderous footsteps running around, like he was frantically chasing something. Sometimes a roar or a particularly colorful swear could also be heard in between foot stomps. 

This went on for several minutes, and Jack’s temper started to rise into dangerous territory. 

Part of Jack wanted to go and make a new mural of Krogan guts on blood on one of his walls. 

Most of Jack didn’t want to piss off Shepard. 

It was really hard to ignore the urge to go kill the annoying lizard, but she had seen Shepard in action. She was glad she was not on the end of the Commander’s scope. 

She also knew that even though the Commander had blown up the Cerberus base for her, helping Grunt through his puberty rite had cemented a relationship between them that Jack’s couldn’t touch. Shepard saw the krogan like a son, and Jack was still a tattooed outsider, albeit a useful one. 

If Jack attacked Grunt unprovoked, it would not end well when Shepard showed up.

Instead, she shoved earbuds into her ears and cranked up the screamer/death metal from her player, determined to drown out Grunt’s antics. 

~*~

Another roar came, followed by the sounds of rapid foot stomps, from the cargo hold, and both the engineers stopped to stare at each other in worry and fear. 

“What the hell is he doing?” Gabby whispered.

“Ah dunno! But Ah’m not goin’ in there ta find oot,” Kenneth answered. 

“I thought going to the krogan home world was supposed to stop him from going bonkers?”

“Well, a man’s got needs, ya know. And now that all four a his ‘as dropped, his got twice as much needs for…takin’ care o’ things?” he suggested. 

Gabby looked at him in horror before smacking him hard in the arm. “That’s disgusting, Kenneth! Thanks, that image will be in my head for the rest of my life….” 

“Well, iffen you come to my quarters later, Ah can give ya somethin’ else to think aboot,” he said slyly, complete with an eyebrow wiggle. 

“Subtle, Kenny. Subtle.”

~*~

He sat on the floor, leaning back against one of the walls in the cargo hold, his breathing slightly labored from chasing the kitten EVERYWHERE.  
It had run up the walls, done flying backflips onto Grunt’s face and arms before scrambling up and down his body, and leapt from his hands in order to run under boxes and crates, between his feet, and up and down his legs as though mocking his large hulking body. 

Several times he had almost caught the little creature. 

Every time it wiggled through his fingers and the chase was on again. 

Glancing scratches covered Grunt’s exposed arms, and there were a couple on his face deep enough to draw a few drops of blood. Normally, krogan hide was thick enough to be impervious to small cuts and scrapes, but Grunt’s skin was not quite as tough as a normal krogan’s. His skin hadn’t been exposed the harsh elements of Tuchanka for centuries, or to the various elements of space-travel as many krogan (as mercenaries or bounty hunters) were. He had grown up in a tank, and now lived in a fairly sterile ship; except for Shepard’s ground missions, he had not been exposed to the elements long enough to allow his skin to callous into the infamously tough krogan hide. 

As he leaned against the wall, he watched the kitten hiding under the table, huddled down with its stubby tail flicking back and forth, its ears flat against its head, making low growling noises. Its fur stood on end, trying to make it seem more intimidating than it actually was. The kitten and the krogan’s eyes were locked, watching each other warily, waiting for the other to make the first move. 

He closed his eyes and smacked the back of his head to the wall, hard. He needed to figure out a different plan, one that didn’t involve him running around his own room after a furball one-thousandth his size. 

The kitten watched the krogan, waiting for any sign of movement so it could bolt off immediately. But after a few minutes, Grunt’s eyes were still closed, and the kitten started to come out of its defensive curl. His ears perked back up, and he looked at the krogan with a tilted face, as though trying to decide what the krogan was up to. Taking a few tentative steps forward, it froze mid-stride to see if Grunt tried to grab him. When he didn’t, the kitten kept crawling forward, and eventually got to the Krogan’s leg. Standing on his back paws, the kitten looked at Grunt unafraid. 

It took a bit of hard work, but the kitten was finally able to pull itself into Grunt’s lap. The krogan still hadn’t noticed. 

The kitten looked at him and mewed loudly.

Icy blue eyes opened and looked down to meet the smaller, sky blue pair with only a slight twitch of surprise. “Back for more, runt?” Grunt asked. 

With surprising speed and agility, the kitten was clambering up Grunt’s arm, using dents in his armor to haul itself up. 

He didn’t move, curious to see what the creature would do, though the urge to swat the pest was almost overpowering. His body was trying to jerk away, in case the kitten decided to use its sharp claws on his exposed eye, but he held his nerves steady, and watched as the kitten finally got on top of his shoulder armor. 

The kitten stared at him for a few moments, head tilted. 

Grunt blinked. “It’s your move,” he said. 

“Meow,” the kitten said before dropping onto his chest plate and rubbing up against his chin, purring all the while. 

“Adding insult to injury, runt? At least take a swipe at my neck for the sake of krogan honor!”

The kitten ignored him, and kept nuzzling into his pebbled skin. 

It took all of his control to not grab the creature and toss it across the room for its NERVE. Instead, he picked it up with both his hands, firmly so it couldn’t escape but not enough to hurt it. The kitten struggled slightly but it was useless. It hung there, and stared at Grunt. 

“You beat me. Fine. Don’t let that get to your head. I’ll show you true krogan fury when you’re bigger and can handle it,” he said sternly. The kitten reached forward and batted the end of his snout, but without its claws extended. 

Grunt opened his mouth, about the lecture the creature more, when his stomach growled immensely. He looked just as surprised at the kitten at the loud rumble. 

“We’ll continue this after rations,” he said, and lumbered up, holding onto the kitten so he didn’t accidentally step on it. 

“Suppose you need to eat,” the krogan said. 

“Meow!” the kitten agreed. 

He put the kitten in the box Shepard had brought it in as he set up the bowl of food and water like the Commander had showed him to do. Then he plucked up the kitten and plopped it down in front of the food. 

“Stay,” the krogan commanded before turning towards the door. 

“Meow!” Grunt looked down to see the kitten sitting at his foot, waiting expectantly. 

He looked back at the food bowl, still full. “No, stay and eat,” he said, picking it up and putting it back in the same spot. 

Walking forward a few steps, he glanced back to see it started to bound awkwardly after him.

A few minutes later, he turned to leave again, as the kitten peeked over the top of the box Grunt had put him and his bowls in. 

Grunt had almost reached the door when the kitten let loose a long, loud, exaggerated cry. The krogan looked at the little creature, which was making the most heart-wrenching noises, like he was torturing the baby. 

He threw his hands into the air. “Fine!” he roared as he stomped back and picked the kitten up. It scampered up his arm and came to rest on his shoulder, purring contently. 

The krogan rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t get used to that kind of treatment, got it?”

The kitten mewled in response. Grunt didn’t even consider the consequences as he strode out of the cargo hold towards the elevator, the kitten nuzzled against his neck and shoulder,  
comfortable and safe. 

V

Joker was actually hobbling his way towards the elevator so he could try and catch Shepard before she went to dinner. Usually one of the crew would bring him a plate of food so he wouldn’t have to strain his body, but tonight he decided to get his dinner himself. 

Of course, this little field trip has nothing to do with the fact that Shepard must have lost her freakin’ marbles on the last mission because she gave Grunt a kitten to take care of!

He waited impatiently for the elevator, trying to figure out what he wanted to say to her, when it opened. Inside was Commander Shepard herself, along with Garrus. 

“Oh, uh….hey, Commander….” He said nervously. Nope, I totally planned this, definitely. I got things under control. 

“Joker? Where are you heading to?” Shepard asked. 

To your cabin so I could tell your how crazy you are in person. “Dinner. Pilot’s gotta eat too, ya know.” 

She crossed her arms. “Did you plan on standing there all day…?” she asked when he didn’t move. 

“Oh, right, sorry…” he hobbled onto the elevator, both nervous that the elevator might jostle him into Shepard or jar him enough to fracture something. Both sounded exceptionally painful, considering her lover was also on the elevator. 

Shepard and Garrus had been very open about the relationship they were carrying on, neither one caring about the whispers and gossip that had started to fly around the ship at first. 

Both had almost died (well, Shepard had managed to go all the way, but that wasn’t brought up in polite company...) and so they decided to screw the conventional rules and do things their way. Now, however, no one on the ship, even the Cerberus members, batted an eyelash at the interspecies couple. It simply the way it was on the Normandy. 

Joker was genuinely happy for them. Garrus always made sure to bring Shepard back alive after every mission, and for that Joker was content to wish them a good run. It was obvious the two were made for each other, oddly enough. They each had that special kind of crazy that complemented each other perfectly. Whenever she embraced her inner krogan, grabbed a shotgun, and ran straight into the enemy lines, he was there with his sniper rifle, picking off enemies she couldn’t see. This strategy had won them many battles. Speaking of crazy…

“Commander, why on earth did you give Grunt a kitten?” Joker blurted out. 

Shepard looked at him and then chuckled. “Did EDI tell you about that?”

“No, I saw it on the video feed.” 

“How was that working out?” Garrus asked curiously. Joker groaned. “Look, they were having a great time, all sunshine and rainbows. Seriously, Commander, why did you think that was a good idea?”

Shepard shrugged. “Grunt needs something to concentrate on, and the kitten needed a home.” 

“So give him a coloring book, some crayons, and tell him if he goes outside the lines you’ll cut off on of his dangly bits. What the heck did the kitten do to deserve being a krogan’s pet?”

Shepard sighed and decided to end it quickly. She did not want to be having this discussion for the whole mess hall to hear. “Grunt isn’t a stupid kid, Joker. He’s intelligent. He needs  
something to really focus on while aboard the Normandy. If it doesn’t work out I’ll take over, but give him a chance. He might surprise you.” 

“And he might surprise you when he gives you his first home-cooked meal. Chicken chow meow, anyone?”

“Is that some sort of Earth delicacy?” Garrus asked. 

Before Shepard could explain the awful joke, the elevator opened to, letting the three walk out quickly. As they came around the corner, they saw that Grunt had beaten them to the table, a rare sight. He usually only ate one exceptionally large meal, then would live off the nutrients that would be stored in his hump for days afterward (this was a typical krogan practice). 

As they approached, Grunt glanced at them, and Shepard saw the scratch on his face, and the droplets of dried blood. “Grunt, what happened to your—“

The kitten popped its head up from it hiding place and meowed in greeting. 

“Well, it’s still alive, that’s a good sign,” Garrus observed. 

“Didn’t believe you when you said it could be dangerous,” Grunt said as they found seats around him. The kitten half crawled/half fell onto the table. It immediately ran up to Shepard, who stroked it gently with one hand as her other was entangled with Garrus’.

The Commander laughed. “I see you found out the hard way,” she said, pointing to her own forehead. Grunt shrugged. “He won’t get me, next time. I underestimated his agility. Don’t worry, Shepard, he’ll be trained into a good warrior.” 

Shepard patted the Krogan’s arm. “With you raising him, I won’t doubt it.” 

Mordin and Legion appeared from the lab, Mordin talking away with Legion simply listening. The geth always came to dinner, only to stand in the corner and watch the other ship members interact. 

Shepard once asked if Legion if it got lonely in the A.I. core. The geth’s flaps had moved in a way that seemed to convey surprise. “It is part of this mobile platform’s mission parameters to observe organic interaction,” it had answered, and the matter was never spoken of again, but Shepard still believed in her original idea. 

“Mordin!” Shepard greeted, waving at him. “Nice to see you out of the lab for once. Hungry?”

“Come for interaction, dialogue, camaraderie,” Mordin explained, taking a seat next to Joker. “Certainly not for 5-star eating experience, no offense to cook.” 

“No argument here,” Joker said. “Gardiner still hasn’t come to the realization that food actually needs to be edible.” 

“I got him the spices he wanted last time I was on the Citadel. I have no more control over the situation,” Shepard joked. 

Garrus smiled as he ran a talon down the kitten’s back gently. It arched its back to meet his touch and was purring like crazy. Now that it wasn’t trying to swat at him with needle-like claws, he was starting to see why Shepard would appreciate the little fuzzy creature. 

Upon sensing the new arrivals, the kitten left Garrus’ loving claws (much to his disappointment) and bounded across the table towards Mordin. The Salarian jumped in surprise, but when he saw what it was he looked at Shepard curiously. 

“Saw many cats on Omega, common human pet. Didn’t take you for a cat person, Shepard.”

“She’s not,” Grunt said roughly. “He’s mine.” 

Mordin looked at Shepard, then at Grunt, and nodded. “Interesting. Krogan often display a ‘love-hate’ relationship with the fauna common to Tuchanka. Never witnessed such a display done with an alien. Must keep observational records for future research.” 

The kitten tried to bat at the Salarian’s hand, but he pulled away from the table. “Not a feline person, myself. Prefer micro-organisms and viruses. Anyone, assistance?” the Professor asked, moving backwards in his chair, trying to stay out of the curious creatures reach. 

A synthetically muscled hand gently picked up the kitten before it could jump onto Mordin’s lap. Legion held it up to his lens, carefully examining the baby. Everyone watched curiously at the two seemed to stare at each other. After a minute, the geth walked around the table to deposit in back on the table before Grunt. 

“It is structurally sound, with health parameters within acceptable range,” the geth stated. “What will be this mobile platform’s designation?”

“Do what?” Grunt asked. 

“Organics usually assign a title or adjective to other organics, places, and objects of import, as a means of identification. What will be its designation?” 

“I am actually very curious Grunt,” Shepard said. “What are you going to name him? Or have you already?”

The table grew silent as everyone watched Grunt, who was looking at the kitten as it seemed to pounce on some invisible enemy. 

“It’s strong, and fast. It’s small and fierce, like my Battlemaster. His name is…C.O.”

Garrus, who had been taking a drink of water, starting choking on it as he began to laugh. It took him a few moments to get the water down his throat without spraying it on everyone at the table. 

“C.O.? As in Commanding Officer?” he sputtered once he could speak. 

Everyone at the table started to crack up. “Feline’s are known to have dominant personalities….” the Salarian informed the krogan. “It is a fitting description.” 

Joker laughed carefully. “Side-splitting laughter” was something he had to avoid like the plague. “You have no idea what a self-fulfilling prophecy that is, Grunt….” 

Grunt glared at everyone. “He reminds me a lot of Shepard.” He looked her right in the eyes as he spoke next. “He’s a warrior, through and through.” 

“I’m flattered Grunt. I think C.O. is a great name.” 

“Hey, Grunt, what the hell were you doing down there today?” asked an angry female. Everyone looked up to see Jack stalking towards them. She stopped just before the table, her arms crossed. “I’m talking to you, krogan.” 

“It’s none of your business what I do on my time, female,” Grunt said, ignoring her. 

Jack hated being called that. “Look here, krogan, I live down there too. You making a bunch of extra fuckin’ noise is my business.” 

“Hey! Behave you two,” said Shepard sternly. 

“Listen to her, Jack, or we’ll have to pull rank on you,” said the accented voice as Miranda walked up. 

“Ah, shit. It’s gonna hit the fan now,” Joker sighed, covering his eyes. “Of course, this happens the one time I decide to get my dinner my damn self….”

Jack whipped around, her hands already starting to gain that lethal blue glow. Grunt’s antics had put Jack in an already foul mood, and Miranda’s attitude was not helping. “I don’t take orders from you, cheerleader bitch!” 

“Convict whore!” Miranda growled back, surprising herself. Jack brought the best out of everyone, it seemed.

“I WILL DESTROY YOU—“

“HEY!!” Grunt roared, drowning out everyone’s raised voices and bringing complete silence to the mess hall. Everyone turned towards him, to see the Krogan hunched forward, his hands covering something. He glared at the two women. “You’re setting a bad example for him. Stop scaring him.” 

Both women opened their mouths to ask what he was talking about when C.O. popped out from behind Grunt’s hands, crawled over them, tumbled onto the table, and came to sit down and stare at them intensely. The kitten was sitting with its back straight, front legs together, and a slight disapproving tilt of his head. 

Garrus laughed loudly. “Look, Shepard, he’s already got that commanding attitude your famous for.” 

Jack looked at the kitten, back to Miranda, and her powers dissipated. “So, giving away pets now Shepard? If you ever find a bearded dragon, let me know. I’m outta here.” 

“You don’t have to go, Jack,” Shepard said. 

The convict shrugged. “No thanks, I don’t do fuzzy. Or bitchy.” She stalked off towards the elevator. 

“Shepard, you’re not gonna let that slide, are you?”

“You have a tendency to start things Lawson. Maybe you should think before you speak next time, especially where Jack is concerned. Just an idea,” Shepard growled. 

“Look, I know you’re the C.O., but do you actually think this is a good idea?” Miranda asked, gesturing to the kitten. 

The commander shrugged. “I don’t have to answer that, Miranda. There’s a method to my madness, and that’s all I’m saying.” 

Miranda looked at everyone, then simply turned and left. She didn’t like Shepard’s alien crew.

There was a reason Miranda never left the ship on ground missions.

As the woman left, the kitten hissed at her retreated figure. 

“Like I said, Shepard, he reminded me of you.” 

Epilogue

A week later, Legion was in the cargo hold, downloading data from the extranet. It was searching through current news reports for any information the Geth might find useful. 

EDI appeared on the console next to where he was standing. “Shepard, Grunt, and Garrus have returned, Legion. You wished to speak to her about something?”

“Thank you, A.I.-EDI,” Legion said, disconnecting from the net. “We will go and assist in any way we can.” 

“Is the kitten ok?” EDI asked. 

Legion glanced at the box in the corner, as saw it was undisturbed. “C.O.-Kitten is in good condition, and is still asleep. This platform kept a careful watch over him.” 

The geth had actually volunteered to watch the kitten while Grunt was in the ground mission. Something about the little kitten sparked an interest in the geth platform, and whenever it could it spend time with C.O. it would. There was no data sufficient to explain the feeling Legion got being around the kitten, but it had bonded to the creature completely. Legion had only bonded to Shepard so deeply beforehand. 

The geth left the hold quietly, as too not disturb the sleeping kitten. C.O. always followed Grunt, and Legion at times, and hated being left alone. If Legion was fast enough, Grunt would  
be back down in the cargo hold before the kitten woke up. 

~*~

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion greeted. “Officer Vakarian.” 

Garrus waved at him in distracted way. The Turian was helping bring in crates of debris from a recent resource-mining mission. Grunt was nowhere to be seen in the vicinity, probably in the shuttle. 

Commander Shepard was off to the side, reading a data pad. Legion strode up to her, a quarry having formed in its programs in lieu of extranet sources, and needed clarification from the Commander. 

“Hello, Legion,” she said cheerfully. “How can I…?”

A confused look came over her face as she looked at him. 

Legion’s eye flaps raised in a questioning way. “Is there a problem, Shepard-Commander?”

“Um…no, no problem. Sorry. Go on, Legion.” She shook her head, a hand over her mouth.

“This platform has noticed various sources on the extranet claiming the Normandy is—“

Shepard suddenly burst out laughing. Legion’s lens focused on her. “What is so humorous?”

Still laughing, she pointed towards the hole in his chest. The geth looked down, and actually reacted in surprised. 

Curled up inside, and tangled in among some of the cords, was C.O. deep asleep. 

Legion looked down at itself, up at Shepard, and down again. “We cannot understand how C.O.-Kitten managed to infiltrate our systems!” 

“Cats can be sneaky but….” she just looked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t feel him to that?”

“This platform does not have sensory receptions. We do not feel, Shepard-Commander.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t wake him up, he might panic. Just head back down to the cargo hold. At least if he runs off EDI can seal the room—“

Grunt suddenly appeared. “Hey, Legion! How’s the little furball doing…?” He looked down to see C.O. still contently asleep in the hole in Legion’s body. 

Grunt promptly snapped. “You ate C.O.? I’ll tear your arms off and use them for pyjack swatters!” 

Legion took several steps back from the angry krogan. “This platform does not require nutritional sustenance from organic tissue.” He explained quickly. 

“So you did it for fun? I’ll crush you, you talking tin can!” 

Legion suddenly took off towards the elevators, holding one hand against his chest so the kitten didn’t fall out. “Shepard-Commander! We could use assistance, please!”

Grunt was right on his heels. “Give me back my cat!” he roared. 

Shepard knew she needed to make sure grunt didn’t kill Legion, but she was too busy rolling on the ground, tears streaming from her eyes as she lost her breath laughing so hard. 

Garrus appeared over her, offering a hand to help her to her feet. “What was that you were saying last week about there being a ‘method to your madness’?”

“Can I let you in on a little secret, Garrus?”

The Turian looked intrigued. “Sure?”

“Usually, there isn’t one.” 

~*~

(The sequel to this story is called “Officer on Deck!”, a series of short stories that reveal just how much trouble a kitten can get into on the Normandy! XD)

**Author's Note:**

> (The sequel to this story is called “Officer on Deck!”, a series of short stories that reveal just how much trouble a kitten can get into on the Normandy! XD)


End file.
